


Stuff & nonsense

by Minne_My



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Bicycles, Magic, School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28169124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minne_My/pseuds/Minne_My
Summary: Hecate Hardbroom stares down a velocipede
Relationships: Hecate Hardbroom & Mildred Hubble
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Stuff & nonsense

**Author's Note:**

> Idea of Mildred on a velocipede belongs to cliotheproclaimer

Hecate Hardbroom was suspicious. It wasn't the _where did you go wrong because the potion is now bright pink_ kind of suspicious. It wasn't the _Mildred Hubble what did you do now_ kind of suspicious. It wasn't even the _I hope this isn't horsemeat, Ms Tapioca_ kind of suspicious. It was the _why is this object doing here_ kind of suspicious.

There was a velocipede in the broom shed. Nestling up to the familiar comforting brooms like a ladybird among the dragonflies. Hecate frowned. Dimity and Ada had loved it on sight, Mildred peddling in the sky. Starting off her Head Girl career as she meant to go on, no doubt. She'd overheard Dimity giving Mildred some tips on how to maintain it.

'Would you like to have a go, Miss Hardbroom?'

The teacher didn't have to turn around for the girl to see the disapproving set of her head and shoulders. Mildred was amused to see that HB's bun almost quivered with indignation.

'No. Thank. You. Mildred.'

Hecate would never forget when great granny Hardbroom had recounted her shock when seeing respectable citizens riding these clumsy contraptions about the city. Honoria Hardbroom was terribly cosmopolitan. A well regarded traveller and epicurean in her tastes; fabrics, the dining table and ornaments. But the bicycle was just a touch too far unrefined. She forbade her children and grandchildren to get on one. Hecate had absorbed that and would never think of disobeying that command even though she was thirty when great granny, bless her soul had died.

Mindful of Mildred's upbringing and the fact that she hadn't grown up with a great grandmother to impart wisdom, Hecate refrained from saying anything along those lines.

'Spend more time practising your broomstick skills' was all that she said on the matter.

Mildred assured her that she would. Hecate turned to glare at her.

'Mealtimes are prompt.'

Mildred took the hint. Unbeknown to them, both were gloomily considering what abomination was on the menu today. But that was no reason to strand around chit chatting about an ancient Victorian contraption that Miss Hardbroom never wanted to see again. Unless it was to go home on. No doubt Dimity would want to take it for a spin. The non-magical way. Hecate supressed a shudder. She could see Dimity careering around the grounds on it, showing off with a modified version of her StAr Of ThE sKy routine.

'Look! No hands!' She'd shout delightedly. Hecate rolled her eyes at the scene in her head, then realised that Mildred was looking at her strangely. Not being privy to the reel playing in Miss Hardbroom's head, she wasn't sure if the reaction was about the upcoming lunch or something else.

'Go.'

Mildred beat a hasty retreat from her teacher's glare. Nearly tripped over the flowerbed.

Hecate snorted.

Trust Mildred to be more graceful on a bicycle than on a broomstick. Or indeed, on land.

An hour later, preparing for her next lesson, stomach uncomfortably weighed down with Ms Tapioca's most recent torture weapon, what seemed to be nuggets made of fried porridge, Ada nudged her and pointed to the window. She looked. There was Miss Drill surrounded by adoring pupils, riding that blasted contraption. With no hands.

'I think it's rather amusing' Ada was saying. _She would_ thought Hecate ruefully. Dimity sped past their window crying out 'look HB, no hands!'

This time Mildred sniggered when she caught the eye roll with the realisation that Miss Hardbroom had predicted this very thing.


End file.
